From the shame of pollution, what plea shall I bring?
Better humbleness show, saying, "Absolute King!
I'm a pauper; my sins by their guilt, do not test!
The rich show their pity for people distressed."
To weep on account of weakness is wrong;

my

If I suffer from weakness, my refuge is strong!

We have broken our promise, oh God! through neglect;
Who to battle against Thy decrees can expect?

From the hand of our counsels, what good can arise ?
As a plea for our failings, this word will suffice:
"Whatever I've made, Thou hast cast from its site
How can Self ever cope with Divinity's might:?
Away from Thy orders my, head I've not led;
But Thy orders, like this, issue over my head!"

Story

(OF THE UGLY MAN'S ASTONISHING REPLY).

A man called a dark-coloured person a fright,
And received a reply that astonished him quite :
"No hand in portraying my features, I had,

That fault you should find, saying, 'I have done bad.'
What business have you with my beautiless face?
I'm at least not the painter of wildness and grace."
Than what on my head Thou hast written before,
Oh, Protector of Slaves! I've not done less nor more.
Thou, at least, art aware that no strength shows in me;
Thy power is absolute, who may I be?

To safety I'll reach, if Thou show me the way;
On the road I'll be left, if Thou lead me astray.
Creator of Earth! if Thou do not befriend,
When will Thy poor servant to continence tend?

Story

(OF THE POOR DERVISH).

How aptly the indigent Dervish thus spoke

Who did penance at night, which at daybreak he broke :
"If repentance to us He vouchsafe, it is right!

For unstable's our promise and wanting in might."
By Thy Godhead! from lies sew my eyelids up well!
By Thy light! do not burn me to-morrow in Hell!
My face from my poorness has gone to the ground;
The dust of my sins in the Heav'ns may be found.
For a little, oh cloud of compassion, rain some!
For in presence of rain, dust will, surely, not come.
From my sins, in this country no honour have I;
And yet, have no way to another to fly.

Of the state of the hearts of the dumb, Thou'rt aware ;
Thou anointest the hearts of the wounded with care.

Story

(OF THE IDOLATER AND THE Idol).

From the world an idolater shut off his face,
And to worship his idol was always in place.
Fate, after some years, to that reprobate wretch
A difficult matter did suddenly fetch.

At the idol's feet, hoping that good might be gained,
On the dust of the temple he, helpless, complained:
"Oh, idol! I'm helpless; assistance I claim !

I am greatly exhausted, oh, pity my frame !"

He many a time in its presence bewailed,
But in getting his matter adjusted, he failed.
Say, when will an idol one's business effect,
That to drive off a fly from itself can't elect?
"Oh thou, on whose foot error's fetter appears,
In folly, I've worshipped for several years!
The business that presses before me, complete!
If you don't, the All-cherishing God, I'll entreat!"
He was still with the idol, his face smeared with dust,
When his wish was fulfilled by the God we all trust.
A knower of truths at this work showed surprise;
The time of his clearness seemed dark in his eyes.
For a mean and bewildered one worshipping God,
Still drunk with the wine of the idol-abode-

Heart and head still with error and perfidy fraught,

Through God, had accomplished the object he sought!
To this difficult matter his heart he resigned,

When a message arrived at the ear of his mind:
"In front of this idol, this foolish one grieved,
And said many words that had not been received;
Were he forced from my shrine, also, hopeless to plod,
How far would it be from an idol to God?"

Your heart on the Lord, then, oh friend, you must bind!
All others, more feeble than idols, you'll find.

Place your head at this portal, and happen it can't,
That your hand should return to you empty, from want!
Oh God! we have come, of our failures to tell;
We have come to Thee sinners, and hopeful, as well.

Story

(OF THE DRUNKARD AT THE MOSQUE).

I have heard that, excited with liquor, a man
Within a Mosque's holiest sanctuary ran.

He wept at the threshold of mercy, and said:

"Oh God! into Paradise may I be led!"

The mosque-crier collared him, saying, "Take heed! Dog and mosque ! Oh thou wanting in wisdom and creed !

What have you done to ask for a Paradise place?

To ogle becomes not your beautiless face."

Thus spoke the old man; and the drunkard wept sore,
Saying, "Master! I'm drunk, do not worry me more!
You're amazed that the mercy of God has such scope,
That even a sinner may venture to hope!
Not to you do I say-my excuses receive!
Wide's the door of repentance, and God will relieve !”
At the kind Giver's favour I, too, suffer shame,
That before his forgiveness, great sins I can name.
When age robs a person of strength, without doubt,
If no one assists him, he can't move about.

I am that agéd man, who has fallen from place;
Assist me, oh God! by Thy favour and grace!

I do not say, "Greatness and rank give to me!"

But "From sorrow and sin, grant that I may be free!"
If a friend happen some of my failings to know,
From folly, he makes them in public to go.

Thou hast vision ! Alarm at each other we feel!
Thou secrets concealest! we secrets reveal!

From the outside, the people have caused an uproar ;

The slave's secrets Thou sharest and cover'st them o'er.

If through foolishness slaves become arrogant, then,
The masters will through their offence draw the pen.
If Thou pardon becoming Thy bounty's degree,
In existence a sinner there never will be.

If befitting our errors Thy anger prevails,

Despatch us to Hell, and don't ask for the scales!
I'll accomplish my wish, if Thou take my weak hand;
And if Thou cast me down, none will help me to stand.
Who will practise oppression, if Thou wilt befriend?
Who will seize me, if freedom to me Thou extend?
Two sects there will be on the last Judgment Day;
I know not to which they will show me the way.
'Twill be strange if my road to the right hand should
be?

For crookedness only has risen from me.

This hope my heart gives me, again and again,
That God is ashamed of the grey hairs of men.
I wonder if He is ashamed about me?

As shame for myself, I'm unable to see.
Did not Joseph, who heavy misfortunes endured,
And for long in a prison was closely immured,
When his orders were current all over the land,
And his dignity also became very grand,
Forgive Jacob's sons for the sins they had wrought?
(For a face that is handsome with virtue is fraught)
He did not confine them for having transgressed,
And did not refuse the small stock they possessed.
This hope of Thy favour I too entertain;
Oh God! to forgive a poor stockless one deign!
None whose cry of distress is rejected on high,
Has a record more black nor eyes moister than I !